Why Do They Dislike Hollywood?

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 177, 29 July 1939, Page 7 (Supplement)

Why Do They Dislike Hollywood?

UII7HEN and if I start to like Tt Hollywood, I'm through" —is the speech one always hears from Director Edward Sutherland when he discusses the merits— and demerits—of life in the film city. Eddie is only one of many movieites who detest Hollywood —to put it mildly. Why? It is the pardon spot of the world—a climate that, in spite of an occasionaj flood or rainy spell, has more fine days to the year than almost anywhere else in the world —flowers and green trees all the season round, an ocean on one side of the door, a dry, health-giving desert on the other. Everything, you could think, to make the most cantankerous happy. Yet a large percentage of the cash movie customers are happy only when boarding that train, 'plane or boat for parts north, south, east and west —anywhere to get away from Hollywood. Here arc some reasons why from the stars themselves: Luise Rainer (who has confided to intimate* that she will never return if she ran help it): "It's terrible to be chained to Hollywood and forced to do everything the studio wants. We have many tights because sometimes I will not 'do what they tell mc. I will not sign autographs. The people who want them arc so cold and demanding. They push and fight. They terrify me. They don't want my signature because it's me. They want to satisfy a curious form of exhibitionism." Margaret Sulla van: "The important thing in Hollywood is to be a mother — there is nothing else with which to occupy the mind between pictures." (Maggie has just become one—for the second time). Herbert Marshall likes Hollywood, but —"I couldn't live here without work." Marshall almost bought a 40-acre ranch in California, but changed his mind when he realised that it would mean living there for the rest of his life. Jimmy Cagney plans to retire within a few years to the 200-year-old farm he owns in Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts. "Until that time," says Jimmy, " I ilwrt spen*«n my time between pic

tures there. Hollywood is only a good place in which to work —not to rest." When Cagney told his wife that he had signed a contract after his first trial picture, she burst into tears. "It was like a death sentence for both of us," says the actor, who admits frankly that his salary is the only thing that gives this city any charm.

According to John fiarfield, Hollywood is a complete fake —nothing is real there, particularly his sudden jump to fame :n "Four Daughters.'' He does not even like the weather—considers" it too good, preferring the blizzards of the north and cast. So does Walter Huston, who says: "The climate in Hollywood is too good.

I miss the four seasons, and," he adds, "I miss my genuine friends. Something happens to people when they come here. ' Everybody wants to go one better than his neighbour—a better home, a better car, a better swimming pool. Everywhere else people are glad to forget their particular business when they leave the office, but not in Hollywood . . . The town is full of people acting-r-outside the studios." Sylvia Sidney's hate against Hollywood is chiefly because—in her own words—there is no one of intelligence with whom to talk. Yet some of the best writers, musicians, etc., work in Hollywood! Fanny Brice concedes that— "Hollywood is a healthy—but dumb— place to live; people should only come here when they've completed something somewhere else; it's a place for old people." Two of the "Dead End" kids, Leo Gorcey and Billy Halop, are both Holly-wood-haters. According to Billy, there is nothing to do, outside of work. Gorcey's dislike is for the social side, which he finds extremely disappointing. "They judge a fellow by his clothes, position and money," he complains. Frances Farmer dislikes Hollywood chiefly because too many rich people live there (she is a Liberal, politically), and because she despises the movies as a school of acting. "Nothing is going to stop me being a great actress —not even Hollywood," Frances said recently, just l>efore leaving for New York. While a Press correspondent was still hesitating whether or not to work in Hollywood, she visited Roland Young in Connecticut. "Don't go—you'll hate it." warned Roland. "Why?" she asked. "I don't know —you'll just hate it," he replied. When pressed for further details, he murmured something about what an artificial place it was, with topsy-turvey standards. It took her one whole year to disagree with Mr. Young— she still thinks it is pretty awful to live in a community where you are rated by the sole standard of success, where the good restaurants are too few, where artistic life outside the movies is either lacking or too self-conscious to be enjoyed, where the theme song of its inhabitants is fear —fear of befaptfi "big shot" to-day and a nobody to-ffiOrrow; fear of losing these five-figure salaries; fear of a bad picture; fear of a producer's unexplained whims; fear of getting old. Hollywood does, however, have the precious advantage of absolute privacy— if you want-it.